


Moments dying down

by MorteMistrata



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-01
Updated: 2018-02-01
Packaged: 2019-03-12 02:36:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13537887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MorteMistrata/pseuds/MorteMistrata
Summary: Nautica's thoughts leading up to the endgame- Skids' death.





	Moments dying down

1.

 

Nautica is not built for war. Some of her friends are. Threats spill off their tongues like literary quotations spill off of hers. Her fingers have memorized the shape of her wrench; theirs remember the pull of a trigger. Most of the time, she does not think about this. Whatever stupidly impossible mission that they’re currently on keeps her mind off of it, with a few exceptions (the other Lost light, the DJD), but this specific catastrophe makes it impossible to forget just how out of her league she is. 

 

Gunfire lights up the horizon as their attackers pelt their hideout. Her hands clench, but she refuses to look away. She’s scared, but she can’t do anything about it. They’re stuck, yes, but she’s stuck with friends. If she does die today, at least she is not alone. 

 

“I think now would be a good time to record final messages.” Skids says quietly. Rodimus narrows his optics, raises a hand as if to argue. Skids holds up a finger, and he stops. “Just in case whatever plan we cook up doesn’t work. I think we all know that the odds are not in our favor.”

 

“When has that ever stopped us?” Rodimus says, flinging his hands into the air. He looks to Megatron, then Magnus. Frowns. “We’ve stopped a sparkeater! We stopped Overlord, and- and- Chief Justice Tyrest! We can stop them. We can stop the DJD too!”

 

Nautica shutters her optics, and recalls what she’s read of the Decepticon Justice Division, of what she’d seen on that other Lost Light. Tailgate, impaled; Magnus, torn and broken, and taken from his armor; The lines of mech’s in their vehicle mode, t-cog stolen. She remembers seeing the pictures, flipping past them because they were too much for her to take. She shudders, and steps forward. “Do you think you can send it to Caminus? Or Windblade, at least?”

 

“Cybertron probably.” Skids says. 

 

Nautica nods. That’s the best she can hope for then. At the very least, she can rely on Windblade to send it home, back to her sorority. Someone will hear of her death. She slips her hand into Skids, and leans on his shoulder. “Good enough.” She mutters. “Good enough.”

 

2.

 

Nautica may have left Caminus behind, but Caminus hasn’t left her. 

 

When it settles in, when it  _ really  _ settles in, she decides on it. She would’ve spent longer on the courting process, would’ve done it one by one, but when death is pounding at your door, you don’t have the time for that. You take what you can get.

 

When it’s over, she feels less alone than she has in years, and yet, all the same, still alone. Her optics keep drifting over to Skids, words she doesn’t want to admit to lingering on her tongue. Everyone scatters as the battle approaches, but Skids waits. 

 

“Considering that you listed my dancing as a reason to be Amica,” He offers her a hand. “Wanna dance? It’s less awkward than waiting with everyone else to die.”

 

Nautica supposes that that’s true. Although Lotty and Brainstorm were currently working on a strategy of some kind, she didn’t have much faith that whatever they came up with would save  _ all  _ of them. “With no music?” She takes his hand, and he pulls her towards him. She almost trips over her own feet, but smoothly hides it as a prelude to a spin. 

 

Skids leads her in a dance similar to what they’d done on the Vis Vitalis, minus the peppy Earth music. “I don’t usually listen to music actually. I think I used to like the Empyrean Suite, but now it’s- it’s not my thing.”

 

“Hmm.” Nautica raises a brow. “I guess dancing without music is no more awkward than waiting with the others.”

 

Skids dips her, and she laughs. Being with him is so easy. On the edge of her processor, the thought persists. Maybe being Amica isn’t enough. Maybe she wants more than that. He spins her again, and then starts on some fancy footwork. She pushes the thought away.  _ This  _ is enough. She may have skimped on the Amica Endura rituals, but the Conjux rituals? She couldn’t. If they survive the night, she’ll ask then. If they survive the night, then she’ll try.

 

3.

 

His body is already growing cold.  _ His corpse,  _ she corrects. His spark has faded away. His innermost energon is starting to curdle. Feebly, she holds him closer to her body, willing her own spark to reignite his. How is she supposed to go on without him? With the pain of a bond broken pulling at her spark, telling her that part of her is gone, missing, dead?

 

She holds him closer, and regrets. 

  
  



End file.
